


The Games We Play

by WhisperingMirrorHallway



Series: The Games We Play [1]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Forced Relationship, Implied Sexual Content, Kidnapping, Physical Abuse, Pre-Kingdom Hearts 358/2 Days, Pre-Kingdom Hearts I, Psychological Horror, Psychological Torture, Psychological Warfare, Secret Relationship, Unhealthy Relationships, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:41:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23893243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMirrorHallway/pseuds/WhisperingMirrorHallway
Summary: Taken away against her will to a world of nothing and artifice, now Enya forcibly plays a dangerous game with an one-eyed opponent who is far more deceitful and dangerous than she has ever anticipated. Every step must be planned out and be taken with the utmost of caution. Enya must prove to see if she's made of something stronger if she wants her heart and will to be intact. For one has to adjust to the darkness to see through it and make it out alive.Warning: "The Games We Play" is not intended for audience under 16 years old. The content in this work does not reflect the opinions of the writer nor does the writer condone or romanticise abuse. Content is fictional. Viewer discretion is advised.02/02/2021: This version is outdated and under heavy revision.
Relationships: Xigbar (Kingdom Hearts)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Games We Play [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1722100
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	The Games We Play

An almost stillness hung in the air of the quarters save for the restless scribbling on paper. A correction in the third last paragraph… and there… the last task for today was finished. Papers were stacked on the desk at neat right angles. Under normal circumstances these sounds would have brought comfort, and this productivity would have instilled a sense of pride in her. Except it did not. Enya no longer lived under normal circumstances. She set herself on the couch farther in the middle of her containment quarters. He had not come yet, and she willed that his presence would remain absent for today.

For how long could she continue this? What if he would grow bored of her? If she was either too compliant or too defiant? To ensure her survival she has to abide by his rules. But her sense of self also mattered. Should she sacrifice her integrity for the sake of self-preservation? Give him the illusion of the subservient partner? She'd gain his trust and privileges, use these to her advantage, and augment her arsenal. But what if he’d caught on and string her along on false hopes and promises? What if he'd make her too accepting of her role and lose sight of her original goal? How could Enya reach that balance while retaining tactical clarity? These kinds of mind games ensured she was kept on edge; a fact she knew all too well. Enya had to become proficient in this game of deceit, but her inexperience would prove to be fatal to a more masterful manipulator. If she were to cut a filament of her fetters, another string of manipulation would be woven to keep her in place. In this intricate interwoven network of disarranged thoughts, one detail line stood clear on what she had to do: mind her step, bide her time, and play her part.

Enya was still drafting the design of her plans when a loud snap of fingers shook her violently from her musings. Eyes like tarnished silver shot open to see the man in black grinning down on her smaller form.  
  
“Wakey, wakey. Can’t have you sleeping on the job, now can we?”  
  
She regained her composure, indignation rose up within but she governed it, any disagreeable comments were bound to instigate him. That needed not to happen. “I already completed my tasks for today,” her reply was courteous but aloof, however Xigbar could sense the apprehensive undertone. That piercing eye locked on the young woman. A devious smile then formed on his features. Enya averted her eyes and half turned her back, muscles tensing as she did, not wanting him to come any closer. Gloved hands seized the nape of her neck and she was forced to recline her head.  
  
“That’s right, you’re a good girl,” he husked into her auricle. “And good girls always do what they’re told.” A shudder ran down her back as he nipped and sucked her earlobe. Her shoulders hunched, her head drawn down between them. “Such a sweet girl,” he sneered, his tone endearing yet dripping with condescension. Then the tip of his tongue slowly stroked the rim of her ear, in sharp revulsion the back of her hand struck his face, immediately she ran away and stood glowering at him. Her face was quiet now but for the tremor of her brown eyes. Xigbar folded his arms atop the backrest of the couch, and rested his chin on his crossed arms. His smile widened on seeing her vulnerable form.

Such a frigid, shy thing. It was blatant how unused she was to these new experiences he brought, which made it all the more fun. Oh, and fun they’d have! She was his to bend and form, a plain silver plate to etch and emboss his desired design into. He’d test her limits, have her begging him not to draw it out any longer, be at the end of her mental resources. Yes, her shaping would be awful. His pupil contracted with intent as he circled back towards the young woman slowly.

“Aw, poor baby, all been wrapped in cotton wool by ya loony mommy that you don’t know what to do! Then again, can’t hold it entirely against you. What with always having to care for someone who cannot care for herself, you never got to live life as it is!” It was a game—to draw her out by getting under her skin—but she refused to give in. She surmised her body language must have let on too much, and her general demeanour and mannerisms must have been signs that led to his deduction.

“It’s easy to judge someone when you don’t know what they’ve been through.”  
  
“Oh, I know all about it,” his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, Enya felt the oily insinuation oozing from his smile. He drew back and was walking away from her, his voice resumed its normal volume. “Mommy dearest dumping all her issues on you, whining how she never got enough love. Your old man and siblings flew the coop to live the good life while you got your wings clipped and were shoved into a cage to keep on playing happy family. And look to what it amounted to.” He snickered. “Must be pretty unfair, huh? Bet they won’t even notice ya poofed!”  
  
“That is not true,” she said, there was a cutting truth within his barb, but she had to stand her ground. Still, how could he have known these intimate details of her personal life?  
  
“Or maybe that dysfunctional lot you call family are glad you’re gone. One load off their shoulders. After all, didn’t they dump you in the middle of nowhere and left you there to rot, all while having to clean up their mess? That must have real hurt, right?” The freeshooter made no effort to conceal his casual amusement. “And don’t get me started on your so-called-friends. Dropping you left and right if you couldn’t give them what they wanted, so much for friendship, eh?” Enya's breathing choked as she felt the sting of tears in her eyes. Unable to shield herself from the onslaught of these dark truths as projectiles, breaching the defences she built over the years. “You sure drew a bad ticket in life’s lottery.”  
  
“It is not funny,” she said, her voice wavering with the emotions inside of her. Xigbar barked a laugh that sent chills down Enya's spine. “Got me there, it’s hilarious!” He laughed; he laughed and laughed, every note of his laughter vigorous and unadulterated. Laughing at the patheticness that was her life laid bare. She blocked it out by covering her ears as hot tears ran down her bespectacled face, speckling the lenses. However the subdued sound kept grating on her ears, stealing the scant control she had left. Without conscious thought, Enya threw herself at him in a forlorn attempt to make him stop, Xigbar simply warped out of reach, smiling in exultation. In short-focused attention she lunged forward to where he was, by every turn he shifted his own gravity, using the spaciousness of the room to his advantage, but Enya was set on landing a hit. Xigbar in turn exuded exhilaration as he continued to toy with her, commenting how her moves needed work. Her breathing became ragged. She'd played right into his game, overexerting herself in her rage. Xigbar appeared on the ceiling, his eye narrowed in cruel amusement as he readied to charge, Enya adopted a defensive stance. A low kick to her feet threw her off balance, and she fell down to the floor, her arms managed to break her fall. Enya took in a sharp breath of shock.  
  
“You were just a deadweight to anyone you deluded yourself that cared for you.” A paralyzing jolt ran through her chest, as though she had been shot through the heart. Of all statements, this rang the truest of them all. She shut her eyes and cast her head down, dark hair fell in front of her face like drapes. The sound of footfall drew closer to her. In an abrupt motion, her hands clenched around his throat, nails sinking deep in his skin, he laughed at her as one might laugh at a child who has flown into a pitiful tantrum. For that is what she was; naïve, ignorant, limited, lacking. Alone by her own devices and with no one to turn to. Xigbar kneed Enya hard in the abdomen, and pressed her stunned body against the cold wall, constraining her arms on her back. She cursed her inability, how she had been failed and were left defenceless; how she was utterly vulnerable to the predation of her tormentor.

“Oops, wrong move…” he breathed the words into her ear, making every one sound like a sin from his lips, the sniper’s complacency was absolutely disgusting. His eye shone with sudden hunger, and ran his hand down the curves of her body, reaching between her legs. “So unloved, so neglected, so underappreciated…” His touch sent a shudder through her body, Enya gave a whimper, not wanting to face the prospect of this man using her in any form he wanted. “Face it, doll, I am all the company you have. Ah, but don’t worry. So long you’ll be a good girl—everything will be taken care of.” Xigbar dove his hand underneath her arms and beneath her shirt. She twisted her body but was unable to break his hold. His hand unclasped her bra and cupped her breast, thumb rubbing her areola until the sensitive skin hardened. The nub was pinched hard, Enya cried a pained moan. “Please… I don’t want this.”  
  
“Too bad, you’re gonna take it.” Enya heard the threat in his voice, she swallowed down a sob. In a slow pace he massaged her breast, his fingers rubbed the soft flesh in a rough circular motion. She bit her lip as a faint sensation started stirring in her pelvic region. Unsatisfied Xigbar left her breast aching and slid his hand past her waistband. Enya closed her legs together, his knee pinned her leg against the wall, she tried kicking him next, but he wrapped her other leg with his own. His fingers probed through the fabric, running across the length of her labia. Her teeth bit harder in the inner wall of her mouth, grossed out by his touches. The darkness called to him, his presence was demanded, Xigbar let out a sigh of irritation. “Guess playtime will have to wait,” he discharged her instantly and paced away, Enya draped an arm over her chest and brushed with her small hand a tress from her glossed forehead. With eyes narrowed in bitterness Enya shot a glare at him. How dare he use her… if only she had been more experienced. Tilting his head, he grinned at her knowingly, and gave a wink, rubbing it in. “Keep up the good behaviour.” With that, he turned and dark energy writhed and churned around him and he slunk back into the depths of darkness. Enya readjusted her clothing, covering her exposed pale skin, shame burning underneath.

A play thing, that was what she was and ever would be. Nothing more, and anything less.


End file.
